


devil may care, heaven will weep

by Lee_Mix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette throws Ladybug away to protect her friends, her partner, and her home. Adrien watches the rest of the aftermath unfold through uncertain eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_[ **(Also available on tumblr)** ](http://unluckyfortunes.tumblr.com/post/132896878486/devil-may-care-heaven-will-weep) _

* * *

 

“Ladybug!” Adrien ran around the rubble, frantically turning his head and trying to spot his partner amidst the aftermath of the chaos. 

The entire plaza had been turned on its head. Stones had been unearthed, glass made the ground glint with the red of the sun, and the whole area had been evacuated. It was like searching for phantoms in a ghost town. 

He didn’t  _care_ what person had been infected with the Akuma this time. All that was business said and done. 

 _“Ladybug!_ ”

The entire thing was a blur. Ladybug had been pinned against the wall. His arm throbbed white-hot pain. They were close to blinkering out, and she had…

Adrien shook his head. “Can’t think about that now. Can’t…  _Ladybug!”_  Trying to keep his mind focused, his feet pounded against the ground, and he ignored the shooting pains coming from his left arm. 

Everything was grey. Dusty. Nothing was there aside from ruined rubble and torn flags. 

Adrien’s lungs screamed at him to stop running, and his body forced him to take a few moments to try and catch his breath. He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to steady the labouring wheezes from his throat. 

It was when he went to take another step, that the colour caught his eye.

_Red._

Underneath a broken piece of debris, he saw it. A tiny bloodied hand, curled up and unmoving. 

His stomach lurched as he took a closer look.

The dust cleared, and that was when he saw her.  _All_ of her. Her limbs were thrown into odd positions, a tooth had ended up knocked to the side, and her nose had been broken in several angles. Her pigtails were barely in, the ribbons tattered and torn.

Her ear lobes trickled with blood where the earrings had once been.

Adrien had to cover his mouth to stop himself from throwing up. 

 _Marinette._ It was  _Marinette_ on the ground.

Of all the ways to find out Ladybug’s identity, but this? It wasn't the way he wanted it to happen. He imagined a moment in time, full of trust and friendship. Not finding her bloodied, broken body after an attack he failed to protect her from. 

“Mari--?” He couldn’t bring himself to say her full name as he crouched down beside her, touching her shoulder like it were made of cracked glass. Adrien flinched when the skin had grown cold.

There was no  _way_ she should be alive after the fall, after the injuries she’d sustained.

Yet, in spite of it all, he heard her  _breathe._

 

* * *

 

_The small voice in her head was scared. Screaming. Panicking. Its words didn’t belong to her mind, but she still heard it._

_Pinned against the wall, hands clawing at the stone to find a way out. Words failing her. There was nothing she could do._ _Akuma was too strong. Found a way to break through their defensive suits. Moves. Nothing worked._

_…Ladybug couldn’t do anything. Arms were unusable. Chat busy with other monsters. People. Couldn’t reach her in time. Won’t reach her in time._

_**I won’t let him take you, Tikki.** _

 

* * *

 

Delivering a broken child to their worried parents was something Adrien  _never_ wanted to relive again.

Seeing Sabine and Tom fall to their knees as their precious daughter was placed on an emergency stretcher and into the refuge of an ambulance, would be a sight that would haunt him forever. Sabine had stared at him with a broken expression, not sure whether to slap him or thank him and for a moment, he was a little boy again. No Chat Noir around to be himself. 

He was just the kid that couldn’t make his father smile anymore.

Adrien sighed and sat up, ignoring the awkward knots in his back. Sitting in the same position long was  _not_ comfortable.

“Adrien,” Plagg popped his head out from his bag. “You know it ain’t your fault, right?”

“You’ve said that already.” He was surprised at how hoarse his voice had gotten, but didn’t move to get any water. He just stayed put. 

“You know it’s the truth. Lady--Marinette made the choice. She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Adrien felt himself chuckle, despite the situation at hand. “Are you trying to make me feel better, Plagg?” He teased. “It goes against your “devil may care” nature, does it not?”

“Maybe, but it goes against  _yours_ to stare at the same hospital bed for over an hour.”

A heavy sighed followed as Adrien stared back at the small bed tucked away in the corner. Plagg was right. Ever since Marinette had been admitted to the hospital, he had been there almost every day to visit. The sterility and clinical feel of the room hadn’t done anything to ease his nerves, and perhaps it  _was_ rude to carry on visiting when he wasn’t a family member, but he was constantly being drawn back there.

To check, to worry, to give up. She still breathed, her chest slowly rising and falling, but that was the only sign of life from her.

Marinette, though she had always been rather pretty, was  _not_ in a good state. Her nose had been broken in two different places. Her skin was the parlour of curdled milk. Her left arm had been bound to a cast, and the rest of her body had been recovering from the stitching and putting the joints back into place. Red seeped through, the first few hours, but was now pale pink against the red of her skin.

And her  _eyes._ Hollowed out with black smears of bags under them, and closed off from the light.

“It’s my fault.” He leaned over to brush a small strand out of her face, and his hand opened to gently cup her cheek. “If I hadn’t…”

The soft tone of his voice cracked, and he withdrew his hand with a sharp jolt.

“Adrien.”

“ _Don’t,_ Plagg. We were supposed to be partners in all of this,  _and_   _I couldn’t protect her._ ”

 

* * *

 

 _Air escaping. A hand clamped over her throat. Other one trying to take off her earring. This was her chance._ _One chance. She just had to hold out long enough until Tikki blinkered out, and…_

_“Marinette, I’m sorry!”  
_

_When the small red creature left her earring and manifested beside her, their attention was drawn. The grip on her throat had lessened, and she swung her legs up–snatching Tikki in her hand and using her knee to deliver a blow to the Akuma-parasite’s jaw._

_They staggered back from the blow, stumbled. She yanked her head back as the enemy pulled back with a jolt, and began to plummet._

 

* * *

 

Awkward.

That was the only way he could describe the moment. Marinette’s mother–Sabine–glared at him out of the corner of her eye from across the room, as she stroked her daughter’s hand. Proudly, she let her tears silently fall.

_Hold your head high as you cry, Adrien. Nobody can take away your right to cry._

Adrien had seen the strength of his mother’s words reflected tenfold in the mother of his partner. She had insisted he didn’t have to leave, but there was restraint in her voice, pursing her lips after each interaction.

“Why was she there?”

The question clicked in his head, and he was silent.

That only seemed to frustrate her more, and her voice began to crack under the pressure of not knowing whether or not her child would ever  _wake up_ again. “Why is  _my_ daughter the one here in this hospital, bruised and bloodied, and fighting for her life? Why…”

 _Why didn't this happen to you?_ He knows she wants to ask.

Instead, she says something else. “Why were you with her?”

Adrien froze as he looked away.  _Marinette would hate for her parents to find out. I don’t think she’s going to be happy if she finds out **I** know who she is. But I… I have to find a way to…_

“I’m… her… boyfriend. We were on a date up there.”

**_WHY. WHY MUST YOU GO WITH THE MOST AWKWARD OPTIONS._ **

She seemed taken aback. “You’re Adrien?”

“Uh. Yes. I am.” He blinked several, surprised at the core. “Has she… spoken about me?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat and settled her daughter’s hand back onto the bed. “Never directly. But there were several small notes with your name surrounded with a heart. I just assumed she had a crush on someone with the name.”

“Oh.” He managed, his mouth feeling dry. “Well, uh. I wish we were… introduced under better circumstances.”

“Likewise.” Her glare softened, making him feel slightly more at ease. Still, she didn’t desist with her questions. “Do you know what happened there? All the news is saying is that Ladybug and Chat Noir were there–you know, those kids who are fighting against…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t  _know_ what they’re fighting. But they’re protecting the city nonetheless. How did… how did Marinette…”

Those eyes glossed over, and in spite of the colour difference, they reminded him  _too_ much of Marinette’s. Or Ladybug's. 

One in the same, really.

“We were separated in the middle of it.” He lied, tasting like acid on his tongue. “The Ak…bad guy must have mistaken Marinette for Ladybug, and when I got there, Ladybug was trying to hold them off from hurting her anymore. I think she fell, but…”

The urge to cry was overcoming him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m  _sorry…_ ”

He flinched when he felt a warm hand on his back seconds later and lifted his head to see Sabine smiling gently at him. 

“My daughter’s heart is not captured so easily. Whoever you are to her, you must have a good soul. I will  _not_ hate someone my daughter deems as worthy of her heart. You have no reason to be sorry, child.”

Adrien forced down the urge to cry down his throat, lodging any words as he began to tremble.

“Are you trying not to cry?” Her voice was filled with sympathy. One he had thought he’d forgotten.

“S-Sorry.” He wheezed. “I…sorry. I’m sorry. I’m  _sorry, I'm so sorry…_ “

The apologies faded into muffled sobs as he was given permission to cry into the lap of the mother of the friend he had failed to protect. If the small gesture of patting his head reminded him of his  _own_ mother, then that was just an additional comfort he didn’t deserve.

But heavens above did he  _crave_ it.

 

* * *

 

_Warmth._

_Everything blurry. Pain in her arm. Shooting. Ears stung. No more earrings. The air was cold against the drying blood._

_Her legs weren’t moving. Not on their own. Lifted. Carried. Strong arms holding her. She felt safe._

_Safety… Tikki was… safe…_

“Marinette, I need you to hold on for me,  **please.** ”

_That voice was lulling her… but it wanted her awake…_

“Nng…trying…”

 

* * *

 

Over the course of the two weeks since her emergency admission, Marinette’s small hospital room had transformed.

The looming sterile walls remained, but they were brightened up by the various cards littering the sides of the tables, the sill of the window, and folded up neatly on the floor of her bed. Balloons were tied to the end of her bed (surprisingly, one of them was from Chloe), giving more colour to the whitewashed walls. 

Alya had been furious that she wasn’t allowed to bring fresh camellias into the hospital room, so had apparently not slept for two days as she prepared  _stuffed_ flowers to put next to her instead. She was more a photographer than a designer, but if anyone could appreciate the effort, it was Marinette.

She  _was_ looking brighter as of late. At one point, he could have sworn she’d smiled.

“Alya’s still working hard on her patchwork flowers for you.” Talking to an unconscious Marinette hadn’t been as awkward as he’d thought, especially after the nurses told him she  _could_ probably hear him. It made all the embarrassment worth it. “You won’t believe how long she’s tried to get the rose to look right. You’re worth the effort, obviously, but it’s… kind of amusing to watch her go completely out of the field for someone. She always seemed so reserved before you came here.”

Adrien walked over and began to sort through her cards again. “Chloe wrote you a small note, actually. It just says, “ _hurry up and get better. It’s weird you not being here and being weird”.”_ He chuckled to himself. “I think that’s her roundabout way of saying that she actually does miss you being at school with her. Hopefully, she won’t be so  _mean_ to you when you come back, but I won’t let her any longer.”

Taking a small moment for himself, his gaze was drawn to the skylines of Paris, small hints of night sprinkled on the evening sky. Stars began to poke through the blazing red flames of the atmosphere, and the glinting city lights were a beauty in their own right.

He sighed, stopped, and  _breathed._

It hadn’t been easy defending it all on his own for the last two weeks. But if it was to keep her safe?

He’d defend the  _galaxy_ if he had to.

 

* * *

 

_Trapped in your own mind, it’s like time doesn’t exist._

_Everything moves, but it’s you controlling the pieces. Your mind can’t create physical objects beyond your own flesh and bone, but it creates colours. Remnants of sound. Illusions of a touch._

_Yet she **knows** she didn’t imagine warm arms pick her up off the battlefield. The moment replays, over and over. Monochrome grey against scarlett. Nothing else is in colour, except for those. _

_The city - or the plaza - was in ruins. Rubble everywhere. Murmurs of a scream, calling out for a part of her she threw away to protect Tikki. Somewhere in her, Ladybug still screams for her to awaken, but there’s something else coaxing out of her mental refuge._

_A voice._

_A small, deep voice. It talks to her, though how often she doesn’t know. Time is stitched together when nobody talks, and she’s left to her own dreams._

_But it’s talking to her again._

“…times wonder if you two would be good friends…”

_Wait…_

“…want….wake up soon…”

_Is that… two voices speaking as one?_

“…all miss you…”

_Chat Noir…_

“…know you won’t be gone forever…”

_And Adrien…?_

_Are they speaking with the same voice?_

“Please wake up, Marinette. I’ll… I’ll do  _anything_ to see you awake.”

**_Hold on, I’m… I’m on my way…_ **

 

* * *

 

All the shadows of doubt nearly killed the light of hope in her mind, had it not been for the voice that coaxed her away from her own fear. The fear of never seeing colours again, of hearing music stream around her ears.

Waking up had been confusing.  Too confusing. Terrifying, even. Her eyelids barely managed to crack themselves open, and all they showed her was a room of a headache-inducing white. Too many voices meshed together into a mess of words she still couldn’t decode. 

Her parents had been the first in. Her mother held her close, her father wept as he clutched her hand. They were praying to  _anything_ that would listen to hear their thanks for bringing their daughter back to her. Marinette was sure that if she hadn’t been so tired, she would have been crying right alongside them.

Then her friends had piled in the masses. (And classmates. She wasn’t even aware that over two hundred people  _knew_ her name, much less cared she almost died as “collateral” damage.) Hailing her a “badass” or “hero” for managing to survive a battlefield. The questions about Chat Noir and Ladybug poured in, as expected, but Alya had soon ushered them out so they could have a private “catch-up”, according to the rest of the school.

In reality, it was much more raw. Hearing her best friend break down over her almost dying had  _not_ been easy.

“Now,” her mother had taken the last of the cards down and put them in a box and sat at the end of her bed. “I know you’re still going to be here for the next day or so before you come home, but if you need me for anything,  _call_ us. Even if it’s just pizza.”

_Pizza? Wow, Mom. You really **are** being generous. _

“I know, Mom.” Marinette’s laugh brought a smile to her mother’s face, and for that, she was glad. Perceptive or not, she hadn’t missed the bags underneath her mother’s eyes. “But please, I want you to go home and  _sleep._ I’m going to be okay, really. Little messed up in the face, but I’m good with makeup.”

Sabine sighed, and put a hand over hers. “Alright, honey. I’ll try not to worry you. But for the record, your face is  _not_ messed up. You are  _my_ daughter. No matter what injuries you get, you are  _beautiful._ ”

Marinette smiled, a few tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Uh… did I come at a bad time?”

In the doorway, a rather awkwardly hovering Adrien stood there, one hand behind his back. Sabine looked over at her with a knowing smile.

“Not at all, Adrien.”  _Wait, when did they get so acquainted? How does she even know his name?_ “I can imagine that you’d want to spend some time alone with Marinette after everything. Just remember–her mouth is still cut, so no funny business.”

If that hadn’t confused her, the sudden tint of red Adrien had turned gave her no clues. Her mother bid her one last goodbye, winked over at Adrien, and left the room.

If awkward tension could be cut with a knife, the one that hung overhead in her hospital room needed to be cut with a  _chainsaw._

“Look, I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here.” Marinette jolted as he marched on into her room, and stood stiffly at her bedside. “But I need to talk to you about a few things first. I promised I’d do this the day you woke up, but all your friends and family wanted to see you first, and I thought it would be best to just tell you after everything settled down. So you’d have time to process. Things.”

 _He’s really shy. And awkward. And socially stunted. Everything’s a bit of a mess when he doesn’t know what to say._ Still, she stayed silent, merely nodding to his request. 

Adrien stared at her for a few moments, before ruffling his hair. “I thought it wouldn’t be  _this_ frustrating…  _agh._ ”

A small part of her nagged that,  _somewhere,_ she had seen this sort of behaviour before. Perhaps she should have been more nervous about the fact that someone she liked  _very_ much was in her hospital room, alone, nervous, and not judging her for her messed-up face, but it felt natural. Her mother had said plenty of people had visited her over the past few weeks, had that included Adrien as well?

“Marinette, I know.”

She paused. “Know?”

“About…” His resolve faltered, but he rubbed his arm, before taking a step toward her. She felt her heart lodge in her chest as he took her hand, knelt down, and give a  _very_ familiar grin.

“My Lady.” He said, and everything fell into place.

 

* * *

 

Watching her process the information had been  _agonizing._

First, her eyes had widened as she realized when he was referencing. Which hadn’t worried him all that much– it was what he had been expecting. It would have been a normal reaction no matter the context. 

Then, she had looked away from him, and he saw her ears turn red. That… hadn’t been on the list of expectations.

“Marinette?”

“Y-you’re…”

He allowed himself to crack a smile. “Yeah.”

“All this time? Did you know… how did you find out?”

_Bloodied hand. Broken body. Barely breathing._

His breath was shaky as he stood back up, and perched on the edge of her bed. “When Tikki blinked out of you… you began to fall. I think you meant for her to do that, so you could grab her and keep her safe. Catch the Akuma off-guard.”

“Tikki mentioned that, but she was out cold along with me.”

“I couldn’t find you.” Adrien hung his head. “I tried, I  _tried_ to figure out where you’d landed. I didn’t know where you were, if I’d–I’d  _been_ there, I could have helped. I began running to try and find you, Plagg went another way, then I saw–”

He’d forgotten how to breath.

“S-Saw…”

“Adrien?”

Hot prongs of tears stabbed at his eyes, and his quick breaths resulted in hysterics. 

“Damn, not now! I-I didn’t–” Another hiccup came instead.

_Stop stop **stop!** She doesn’t need to see this right now! She’s recovering from your mistake, dammit! You don’t deserve to cry in front of her–_

“A-Adrien, it’s okay–”

“It’s  _not_ okay!” He argued, sounding like that five-year-old boy again. “I nearly… I nearly got you  _killed._ I nearly… I almost…”

He sunk to the floor with his head in his hands, and began to whimper.

“I can’t, Marinette, I  _can’t… please_ tell me I didn’t give you bad luck, too.” He begged. “Please tell me I didn’t cause all this. I’m--I’m so  _sorry._ ”

She wasn’t saying anything. Of course she wasn’t. Her mind was clocking all cogs of information together already. He’d already been the one to blame for his mother going missing. His father rejected his entire physical  _presence._ Everyone at the estate watched him with cold eyes. Now Ladybug–Marinette, would reject him as well. Disown him. She had every right too, and he had no arguments to convince her how  _sorry_ he was–

“Adrien.”

Her hand had touched his shoulder, and he looked up with puffy eyes.

“Come up here so I can  _talk_ to you, please.”

His legs listened to her more than they did his own hesitance, and they rose to stand next to her. She tugged at his hand gently, and he sat down upon her silent request.

She took a deep breath, and smiled at him. “It wasn’t you fault. You didn’t cause all this. You haven’t given me bad luck.”

“B-But–”

“It  **wasn’t**  your fault. You  **didn’t**  cause all this. You  **haven’t**  given me bad luck.”

The words played from her lips like a mantra, putting more emphasis that it  _wasn’t_ all his fault, that he _didn’t_ cause all this pain, and that he  _hadn’t_ given all the bad luck to her in the past few weeks. She repeated it until the trembles in his fingers stopped, until the corners of his eyes grew dry, and even past that. 

Marinette didn’t stop. Ladybug didn’t relent. They continued to tell him everything he had denied about himself.

Eventually, she replaced her words with new ones.

Her tentative shyness returned. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m just sorry I made  _you_ worry. But, please, I don’t want anyone else to be sorry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to know that even after all this, I’ll… I’ll never stop being glad you’re my partner. I’m happy your Adrien  _and_ Chat Noir, and I still trust you. I still want to fight by your side. I just want  _you_ to be okay with that.”

His eyes brightened almost immediately. He couldn’t  _believe_ what she had just said all of _that._ After everything that had happened, she still wanted to be beside him, still wanted to trust him. A part of him was sure he didn't deserve it, but Marinette/Ladybug, whoever she was, radiated certainty in the midst of all the turmoil she had been through. 

Yet, he still had to ask. “Are you sure?”

“Well," she held up her cast-covered arm. "It’ll have to be when I can  _fight_ again. My arm is still going to be bound up for a few weeks.” She frowned. “How have you been patrolling the city whilst I've been out, anyway?”

“Oh, right. I forgot to mention.” He pointed to where Tikki was sleeping. “Turns out Plagg and Tikki can combine with one of us at  _once,_ but it exhausts them more. I guess you can say I’ve become  _Chatbug_ for the last few weeks.”

“That…” She snickered. “I have to see. But I  _am_ sure.” She put a hand over his, cheeks going pink and gazing at him with shy eyes. “I was sure with Chat, I was sure with Adrien, and I’ll always be sure when it comes to  _you_.”

Usually the roles were reversed in the films, the books, the comics. It would be the girl waiting patiently at the heroes side as they lay in a hospital bed. It would be the woman tearing up over hearing such wonderful, heartfelt words.

Well, those cliches were long and drawn out, he thought. If the world thought him stupid for saying this because she was a girl, he didn’t care: Marinette and Ladybug would  _always_ be his heroes.

“S…same.” He choked out, covering his mouth to stop another sob.

Her look pitied him, but it didn’t make him feel small. She opened out one arm, and gestured for him to come closer.

Curled up on her hospital bed, he lay against her chest, closing his eyes as another fit of sobs began. Marinette’s free arm cradled Adrien closer to her, not willing to let her  _own_ tears be pushed back for his comfort. She nestled her face into his hair, and the two of them drew as close as they could to each other’s comfort.

Damn the world they were supposed to protect. For now, they would be what they were underneath the masks: two scared kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders, scared and clinging to the one person who could understand their situations wholeheartedly, and attempt make them feel that little bit safer.

 

* * *

 

**Extra:**

 

Winter had finally gotten out of her nine-month slumber, stretched out her arms, and covered the entire city of Paris in a frozen white blanket. Leaves had been blown away by the skyline breezes, sending chills to the far reaches of the city.

The barest traces of sunlight remained in the mid-afternoon, in the small gardens surrounding the hospital. Out the way of the paths, in the middle of the grass, Adrien wheeled Marinette in her chair to enjoy the skies darkening by the second.

“Dad says I should be able to come home tomorrow. I won’t be at school until my injuries heal properly–my legs still need to be eased back into walking, but it’s still a relief to come  _home!”_

She stretched her free arm and gave him a lazy, if somewhat shy smile, and he couldn’t help but return it in kind. Seeing her in such a cheerful state was… unusual, but a blessing. At least she could  _respond._

Still… “Call me selfish, but I think I’ll miss these visits.”

“Hm? Why?”

“I won’t get to see you as often.”

Immediately she hid her face, her ears turning red. The sight was too  _cute_ not to laugh at, even a little.

“A-Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

He leaned over to look at her. “What is it?”

“It’s about my Mom. Thanks for not telling her I was Ladybug, by the way. But… did you say something to her as a cover story?" Adrien stiffened as she continued. "She’s acting weird whenever I so much as  _mention_ you visiting me. Always winking or congratulating me. When I ask her why, she just says I,” she held up one finger for quotations. “apparently “ _already know the answer within my strong-willed heart”_ or something _._  All I wanted was answers, not quotes from a Disney movie!” She groaned. “Do you know what she’s on about?”

"Uh."

“Adrien? Are you alright?”

His face had gotten so hot, he was  _sure_ he could cook eggs on them. 

 _You can’t tell her. But you can’t lie._ His mind was a battlefield of internal hormonal struggle, and he could bet Plagg ( _and_ Tikki) were loving every  _minute_ of it.

_I can’t lie._

“Y-yeah, ehm…” He scratched under his chin. “Wh-when you were, uh, knocked out, your mother asked what you were doing at the Plaza at the time of the Akuma attack, but mainly about why I was with you when I… found you.”

“Yeah…?”

Adrien bit his lip. “I… I told… I didn’t know what else to say. So I just said we were… dating. That I was your boyfriend.”

“O-Oh.”

He couldn’t bear to look at her. Adrien was sure his face rivalled a tomato rather than the esteemed heir of the Agreste family, or even the cocky hero “Chat Noir”. No, he closely resembled a teenager with an awkward crush on  _two_ people now blending into one, and he was  _sure_ nothing online would help prepare him for that.

Still, he resisted his fear, and took a quick peek at her. Surprisingly, she was staring up at him, albeit nervously, biting her lip. 

“I-It’s not the worst thing you could have said to use as a cover story.” She babbled. “A-and, uh, my Mom is pretty perceptive, so it’s best to just… go along with it for now, if she asks.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“…Good.”

The night sky had begun to take centre-stage, and the chill in the air picked up.

“Want to go back inside?”

“Yeah. Please.”

Neither would mention the small smiles on their faces as they went in. 

 


	2. persevere and love

From the moment her legs and arms were released from their casts, Marinette had vowed never to take the chilled winds for granted ever again.

The daylight hours had fallen from grace, and twilight had taken up ownership of the threshold over the skies of Paris. Marinette watched from her wheelchair at the moon reaching centre stage just shy of the cloudbank border, at the stars winking at her from so far above (or below; really, the stars and their locations were nothing if not subjective). It made a change from the sterile walls of the hospital, and the pinball visits had finally calmed.

Marinette sighed, and rested back into the chair, before closing her eyes. It had been almost three months since the accident. Eight weeks her left arm and right leg had been bound up in a cast, and it had been two hours since freedom had been granted to them yet again.

A tapping on the window drew her from her thoughts, and she unclipped the hook. She felt her heart skip a beat as a shadow blocked out the moon.

“Hello there, my Lady.”

Chat Noir was the one who greeted her, but as he landed on all fours onto her cream carpet, he blinked out of the air, and into Adrien. She swerved her wheelchair around, and leaned on the armrest with a bashful smile.

“Couldn’t resist a visit, could you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I  _came_ here to visit you. Patrol was being slow tonight what with the lack of activity lately… and I wanted to give you something. Wait,” Adrien paused as he tucked a delirious Plagg into his collar, and glanced around. “Is Tikki here?”

“No,” Marinette pointed to her bed, to the little red fairy curled up in the middle of her cushions. “She’s fast asleep on my pillow, see?” She then noticed he was hiding something behind his back. “What’s that?”

“Right, right.” She blinked fast as a brown paper bag obstructed her vision, and she gently placed it in her lap. “You mentioned your parents wouldn’t let you have anything sweet because of their,” he held up his fingers to quote, “ _health kick diet._ So I… well, I’m no baker, but…”

“Spent four hours on ‘em and they still turned out crap. Didn’t get me any cheese. Stingy git.”

 _“Plagg!”_ Adrien hissed at the tired kwami, flushing down to his neck despite the lack of light. Marinette didn’t resist a giggle as he realised his outburst, cleared his throat, and straightened his collar so the little black cat kwami fell head-first on the floor.

Marinette ignored the background complaints of Plagg, and peered in the bag, barely holding back a delighted gasp.

Eclairs. A little misshapen, perhaps, and the cream had gotten  _everywhere_ (obviously from him leaping from the rooftops), but the smell of the sweet treats was utterly enticing and she could practically  _feel_ her mouth watering.

“Adrien,” she grinned up at him, and pulled out the eclair. “Thank-you! Oh, you don’t know how good it feels to actually  _smell_ chocolate and sugar again!”

“Well. That doesn’t mean anything if they taste bad, right?”

She hummed in agreement, before breaking off a small section of the eclair and popped it into her mouth. It went unspoken at how Adrien hid his hands behind his back, absentmindedly tapping his foot and refusing to look at her. 

Marinette swallowed the small part of the treat, and cupped her chin. “Hm…”

“W-well?” Adrien hid his nerve-riddled voice behind his hand.

“Adrien.” Every moment she didn’t answer was making him more flustered, but she couldn’t bring herself to tease him anymore. “They were  _great._ Did your really make them yourself?”

“Yeah!” He breathed a sigh of relief, and perched on his usual end of her desk. “Yeah, I did. Spent a while on it. Baking isn’t exactly my speciality, even Sabine  _does_ badger recipes at me whenever I come visit.”

Marinette ducked her head at the casual mention of her mother.

Three months into her recovery, and the two of them  _still_ hadn’t desisted with the “he was my date for the afternoon” excuse. The adrenaline of recovery, midnight visits, and constant physio had left time for talk of  _relationships_ in the dust, trailing out at the roadside.

If she were honest, she had no idea how to define what they’d become. There were certainly romantic feelings on both ends, and she cared about all aspects of him, but…

She needed that friend more, and he respected that.

Still, she could take the small moments of hearts skipping beats and blushes across the cheeks when they came.

“You’re coming back in tomorrow, aren’t you?”

The very thought of it had her head fill with dread. “Yeah!” She chirped. “It’s about time I got back to work. I do sort of miss all the lessons, and it’ll be nice to see everyone again.”

Adrien folded his arms, and frowned. “You don’t need to come in now, you know. You’re coming back in a lot sooner than people thought. Are you sure you’re ready too–”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I  _am_ ready. A little worried, if I’m being honest, but I’ll be fine. Can we just change the subject to something else, please?”

“…How is your physiotherapy coming?”

Marinette groaned, though inwardly was glad that he complied. “I’m glad the casts are  _off,_ but the sessions are… slower than I thought they would be.”

“Mari, you  _did_ break an arm and leg. You need time to heal.”

“I  _know_.” She said quietly, folding her hands in her lap. “But you’ve had to take my load in everything, since that last Akuma attack. You’ve even had to fight off some of them yourself. I just want to try and hurry up recovery so  _you_ can rest.”

Adrien was silent when he got up off the desk and walked over to her chair. Marinette was surprised when he knelt down in front of her, and gently took her hand in his, regarding her hand like it was something precious.

“Do it as a favour to me.” He gazed up at her with the eyes of a boy who had lost everything, and a hero stringing it all back together. The glint of his green eyes became electric, and surged through her blood, making her more alert and unable to look away. “You’re an awfully compassionate person, Mari, but you’re like me. Stupidly stubborn.”

“Cats tend to be.”

He smirked. “As do ladybugs. But even a ladybug must rest her wings, and you have to let yourself heal before you can think about anything else.” He trailed off into his own thoughts, before shaking his head. “You said you wanted to pay me back for getting you out of there safely? Get better. That’ll be payment enough.”

The wind began to tap lightly on the window, but all she could focus on was the light in his eyes.

“…Alright.” She whispered. “Alright.”

_For now._

* * *

Stolen moments were beautiful in their way, and a great mental retreat from reality. Despite her leg and arm being out of the cast, until her physio had, for lack of a better term, kickstarted, she was stuck in the wheelchair. 

It was then that the whispers began. Being wheeled down a corridor full of wide-eyed students with pitying glances had made her want to melt into the chair, even with Alya’s sharp glares scaring most of the perpetrators off.

She hadn’t anticipated on her first day back to be  _filled_ with the reality of people staring holes into her head. 

“Just ignore them, Mari.” She’d told her as she was wheeled into the classroom to her desk. Though the faces were friendlier, they just  _wouldn’t look away. Why couldn’t they just look away?_ “They’re just jealous because you were shielded by Ladybug, and you look better than they  _ever_ would.”

“…Thanks, Alya.”

The droning sounds of summarized events of the Revolution filled the air after Alya’s small smile dropped. 

Yet all Marinette was able to focus on was her trembling hand, struggling to keep up with the mass intake of work. 

Dates morphed into inkblots. 

Facts became twisted fictional creatures. 

Her hand became stained with ink as it smudged across the page. 

Eventually she put down her pen with a shaking hand, biting her lip.

Sweat poked on her brow. Her hands pressed against her forehead as she leaned her head down. 

_Why did I come in today? Everyone’s just looking at me and whispering._

Marinette suddenly felt something twist painfully in her stomach, and she clasped a hand over her mouth. 

_I’m going to be sick._

“Mari? Are you alright?” The shake on her shoulder did little, only making her stomach feel worse. “Sir,” Alya’s voice rose with worry fringing at the borders, “I think something’s wrong with Marinette! She’s not breathing properly!”

The writings stopped. Everyone turned to stare. Staring. Looking.

The teacher rushed over to her side, and took a look at her. Her face was so blurry. Everything was blurry. Was she smiling or frowning? It was like someone had put a painting out into the rain.

“G…get…” She wheezed. Where was all the air going?

Body felt light. Mind was fuzzy.

_Stop staring stop looking at me_

“Alright class, please wait in the corridors whilst we help with Marinette. Nino, please go and get Mrs. Balm from first aid.”

“On it.”

Fuzzy

_Fuzzy_

_Why is everything so dark?_

* * *

The drive home from school was silent, and Marinette had to ignore the worried glances from her mother in the rearview mirror of the car. 

According to Alya (who had been there when she had woken up in the infirmary), she’d completely lost it in the first lesson of the day. Freaking out over something or the other, before she had completely blacked out and fainted in her chair. The memories were somewhat fuzzy, a mix of voices calling out to her and her legs and arms going numb, but it keyed into what she  _did_ remember about the day.

As Sabine wheeled her back into the house, Marinette ducked her head in shame. She parked the chair up by the living room, before taking a seat on the sofa.

“If you didn’t want to go in today, you should have mentioned.”

Her mother had always lacked tact in tackling tough conversations, but for once Marinette was glad she took the blunt plunge.

She drew a deep breath, before sighing. There wasn’t much point in hiding the truth anymore. “I thought  I  _was_ ready to go back, Mom.” The words burnt like acid on her lips. “Everything was fine at the start, with Alya and all my friends, but everyone just… kept  _staring_ at me.”

The truth was on the end of her tongue, waiting to pour out. “I don’t remember what happened, but I know I started freaking out. I just… wanted to get better as fast as I could.” Marinette twiddled her fingers together. “So I could stop worrying everyone.”

“Marinette.” 

“What–?”

Her breath lodged in her lungs when her mother embraced her, and had to resist the urge to cry.

“You are such a  _foolish_ girl.” The insult was empty, but the fact her mother was choking up had her heart feel like shards of glass had stabbed at the strings. “Oh, my foolish girl… you’ve gotten so grown-up, trying to do everything by yourself.” Her mother stroked through her hair, and she felt like a small child again. “But you don’t realize how childish you’re being by trying to force something like  _nature_ to hurry up.”

“I…I’m sorry.” She hiccuped into Sabine’s shoulder. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to… I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you didn’t, darling.” Marinette felt her mother cup her cheeks as she pulled away from the hug, and her thumbs wiped under her eyes. “But you should have talked to someone first. I know I can’t force you, but for something like this, I  _need_ to know what will help you.”

Her face sank into her hands, and another batch of tears became freshly delivered. “I’m sorry.”

“Ssh, darling. You don’t need to keep saying sorry.” She was pulled back into another hug, and this time, Marinette put her trembling arms around her in return. “Just cry if you need to, and when you’re done, we can talk about what will make it easier for you to manage everything.”

Her sobs had never been so loud.

* * *

Winter folded into Spring, and everything began anew.

Marinette hadn’t come back to school since blacking out in the middle of her history class. Technically, she was still enrolled in the Academy, but all of the lessons, coupled with the stress of recuperation, had proven to be too much of a mental strain since her last attempt at coming in. Thus, supplementary material for her had been provided for her to work on at home, and make-up lessons would be issued for her next year.

It had taken some persuasion from Chloe, and some own influence of his with the school board, but Adrien would  _not_ let Marinette go back a year because of  _health_ issues. She adored her year more than anything, and to just let her fall behind…

It didn’t bear thinking about. 

“… _and then, I almost tripped into the nurse’s lap. Again! Adrien, physio is torture. Why can’t there be a magic potion to make it all better again?”_

He smiled, holding the phone closer to his ear. “Come on, Mari. What did you say to me last week?”

An audible groan was heard through the phone.  _“I know, I know. Time is a good healer as long as you’re the one to apply the medicine. But still. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little wishful thinking.”_

He twirled a lock of hair around his fingers, leaning against the window. “Just keep your head up, Mari. You’re already making good progress, right? We’ll all be here waiting until you get better.”

_“…I know. Just a few more weeks, then I’ll be able to come back. For real, this time. I’m sure Paris has missed it’s ladybug.”_

“Right.” Something about the title made his heart skip a beat. 

Being both Ladybug  _and_ Chat Noir hadn’t been easy. Everything had to be done covertly. If there was one thing he would do, it was protect her name. Even if he had failed to protect her before.

 _“Actually…”_ His curiosity was peaked when her voice suddenly grew quiet.  _“When I do come back, the first day I do… after school, could the two of us go to the library? There’s… something I need to talk to you about.”_

“Sure?” Confusion made his head grow branches to what she  _might_ want to talk about, but he brushed the loose leaves away to the back of his mind. “Of course we could.”

_“R-Really? You wouldn’t be busy or anything?”_

“I’d always make time for you.”

Sentences like that rolled off his tongue so naturally, yet still made his heart race and face steam red. He heard her gasp, and he could visualise her tugging on one of her pigtails. (It was a nervous habit of hers, he’d noticed.)

_“A-ah. Thank-you. That… means a lot.”_

“You’re welcome.”

_“A-anyway, I need to have another dose of antibiotics now, just to keep the pain down, so I need to go.”_

“Oh.” He didn’t mean to sound so deflated, but he couldn’t help it as his shoulders slumped. The call had lasted  half an hour, but… “Talk to you soon?”

_“Sooner than you think.”_

When the phone clicked out her voice and the call ended, his mind became shrouded in confusion at her last words.

* * *

Months had passed by since Marinette had set foot in the school she loved so much. Time was an illusion without her. The school she had spilled blood on the floor for. Nails had been chipped, teeth had been knocked. Ladybug may have been the costume, but it was Marinette who controlled the strings and poured the emotion into the actions.

The halls were dusty. All gossip had disappeared. The only knowledge that kept up the spirits of her class was that, soon, she would be coming  _back_ to them _._  Maybe not as soon as they would have liked, but her health came first over their emotional absence from a good friend. They would be okay to hold down the fort whilst she got better.

Then there were the days that the sun shined brighter, and it seemed to be mocking him. Days like those shouldn’t  _exist_ without her.

“Adrien.”

He sighed, and looked over at Nino, whose eyes were fixated on his phone. “What is it now, Nino?” Adrien asked, trying not to sound so annoyed. He then pointed to his book. “You know I’m trying to catch up on a book report.”

He almost yelped as the book was pulled from his grasp. “That can wait until later. You need to go outside.”

“What?”

“Seriously, dude. Go outside  _now._ ”

Puzzled, Adrien rose from his seat, and took a look outside the window. Though the light from the sun nearly blinded him at a first glance, once it had settled and adjusted, the crowd of people that had gathered outside the building was enough to warrant some attention.

He and Nino ran through the corridors like there were no regulations, and burst through the doors. As they approached the cluster of people, they began to drift away from the centre like grains of sand on the wind. 

Alya was silent as she was the last to move, merely grinning as she walked away from the centre.

His breath lodged in his throat.

“Mari…”

There she was. Standing, on her own two feet, with the biggest smile he’d seen from her in  _ages._ The midnight visits, the fights, the teenage escapades… nothing compared to the beauty of  _that_ smile. 

It made his knees feel like jelly as he took a step toward her. 

He nearly collapsed under the gravity of the moment, when she took a shaky step toward  _him._

One.

Two.

_Three._

He broke out into a small jog, and then into a full-out run, as she hobbled with shaky steps. Adrenaline may have been his lifesaver in the past, but now all it did was encourage him to use his  _own_ heart to get to her faster, and he ran across the pathway.

Adrien didn’t care if he was crying, he didn’t  _care_ if the entire city of Paris knew he was Chat Noir, he didn’t  _care_ if he lost all his memories, so long as he could just  _reach_ her…!

“Adrien!”

Arms closing around her waist, she slotted back into his chest, and he held her close. He nearly doubled over from the sheer intensity of his run, and she was still struggling to stand up, but then he lifted her up and twirled her around and his his tears in the hug.

It was a messy reunion, with tears and sobs mixing with laughter and smiles, and he was  _pretty_ sure Alya and Nino were either gawking or filming the moment for future blackmail, but–

she was  _here,_ and everything was  _perfect._

_“You’re back.”  
_

Those words reminded him that he was only human, and he needed to breath. The world had been kind to ignore that fact whilst the sight of Marinette had stolen his breath away. 

“I’m  _here._ ”

He collapsed to his knees and brought her along with him, but still couldn’t break away from her. _Everything_ about her was addictive, and he never wanted to quit taking in all she was offering him.

“Y-you’re walking. You’re smiling. You’re  _here, Mari._ ”

She combed her fingers through his hair, and pulled back to grin at him. “Silly kitty,” she whispered, poking his nose. “You’re going to make  _me_ cry, so stop the tears. There’s no need– _whoah!”_

With one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, he surprised the  _entire_ crowd by lifting her up into his arms. She spluttered and went bright red, glancing around at the eyes staring.

“A-Adrien!” She laughed. “P-Put me down!”

For a moment, his grin softened, and he leaned in close to her. “I don’t think so, my Lady.” His voice was smooth, and it made her blush down to the tips of her ears. “Now that I’ve got you back with me, I’m never letting you go again.”

If half of the female population in school (and a quarter of the male) became disappointed that Adrien Agreste’s heart had been stolen, it didn’t matter to him.

She was warm, wonderful, and  _with him again._

(There was also that talk in the library to have later, but honestly, the words were already spoken in the look in her eyes.)

 


	3. EXTRA: Tricky Invigoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small interaction between Plagg and Adrien, detailing a little into HOW Adrien made those eclairs.

“You know, Adrien, if you try  _hard_ enough, you may eventually be able to turn the raw ingredients into eclairs with just  _one look._ It’s an enjoyable side-benefit of being Chat Noir.”

Adrien glared over at Plagg, trying to ignore the impish grin on the Kwami’s face. “You’re  _enjoying_ this.”

He downed another block of cheese, and licked his hands clean. “Course I do. It’s bad enough you’re disgustingly lovesick, now you’re  _baking_ for the girl. You planning on hiding a ring in there?”

Adrien spluttered. “Wh– _Plagg!”_ Face hot, he huffed and looked away. “Why are you such an  _ass?_ ”

“Comes with being an immortal deity of trickery, kid.” He hummed, “now, to more important matters. Where’s that other stash of camembert I had…?”

Adrien shook his head, and went back to looking over the recipe book. His hands gripped the sides, until perspiration leaked through his fingertips, and he hung his head in defeat.

“I can’t do this. I can’t. She’s a baker’s  _daughter._ ” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Anything I make is going to be compared, and it’ll end up  _terrible._ I can’t even bake! I've barely ever used anything in a kitchen before!”

Adrien sunk to his knees, and sighed. “I just wanted to do  _one_ thing to make her feel better. Just  _one._ ”

Plagg paused putting another slice of cheese into his mouth, and stared at the defeated boy. Placing it to one side, he hovered down next to him, and narrowed his eyes.

“You haven’t even cracked the  _eggs_ yet.”

Adrien gave him a dark look. “Of  _this_ batch. You saw how the other ones turned out.”

Plagg shrugged his tiny shoulders. “So? Even Ladybug messed up from time to time. Tikki messes up  _all_ the time. You’re really going to let something like a few failed batches get in the way of you cheering up Marinette? You’d give up something for her that easily?”

Adrien wiped under his eye. “…No.”

“I mean, nobody is saying you  _have_ to.” Plagg grinned. “I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of  _other_ people who wouldn’t give up as fast as you have for Marinette. Maybe they’d make pretty decent Chat Noir’s, too.”

“ _Like hell._ ” Adrien grinned, and rolled back his sleeves. “What’s a little bit of bad baking? Her parents aren’t letting her have  _sugar_ at the moment. She’ll probably love it!”

Plagg’s grin couldn’t be denied. “You sure about that?”

When he faced Plagg, even the small Kwami was surprised at the fire in his eyes. 

_“Watch me.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been playing on my mind all day, and I decided to write it up. It’s been a little while since I’ve done a non-prompted piece, and this one will certainly be longer than my usual fics. Also, this is my first attempt at a semi-action scene. Any criticism will be welcome! I hope you enjoy this piece, and I hope I got the tone right.


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